Luxe Glamour (The Glamour Series Book 5) by Maggie Marr Read Free Book Online Page A

I’ll take that empty chair.” I gestured to a couple of empty seats on the other side of the table.
    Some scruffy guy was sitting over there. He wasn’t bad looking and he actually seemed oddly familiar … hmm? Party circuit? Clubs? I wasn’t sure where I’d seen him before. At least he dressed well, even if he didn’t appear to own a razor. His eyes traveled over me. That feeling was familiar. Everyone stared at me. But this guy? I met his gaze and instead of being embarrassed about ogling me he tilted his head and smiled.
    A jolt pulsed through me. I reached for the back of one of the empty chairs and he stood and pulled it out for me. His expression with his cocked eyebrow and crooked smile was somewhere between disdain and amusement. I sat and he pressed in my chair and then returned to his seat.
    I leaned toward him. A thrill of excitement tingled through my body and trailed along my skin. “Excuse me, do I know you? You look familiar.”
    “Nope.” He leaned back in his seat and lifted a bottle of beer to his lips.
    A beer bottle? At this table? At this event? My eyes traveled over him. He was wearing Armani, although the suit was a bit dated, totally classic though. He had great teeth and well-kept hands. My gaze landed on his feet. Boots. Scruffy, well-worn boots. My gaze darted back to his face. I just couldn’t place him. My chest tightened and my breathing shortened—there was something about this guy that caused a thrill to race through my body. My nipples tightened beneath my dress.
    “Then, if I don’t know you, why are you smiling at me as though we do know one another?”
    “We know a lot of the same people.”
    How coy. How droll. How annoying. Incredibly attractive, it was clear that he turned me on. A weird sort of aura hovered around this guy. Was he a no-name hanger-on who was trying to appear as though he were a member of the A list? I came to the conclusion he was just a poseur. I’d come across a few people like him since my career took off.
    “And how do we know the same people?”
    “We are both—”
    He was interrupted by a booming voice. “Oh my fucking goodness, is that Trick Williams?”
    Daddy’s voice burst across the room. He was big, he was loud, he was amazingly famous and he didn’t care who he interrupted. “I thought you were fucking dead!”
    “I’m just living in Idyllwild, which is probably the same thing.”
    Daddy laughed and threw his arms around the guy, embracing him as though he were his long-lost son. Daddy pulled back and held him at arm’s length, his eyes roaming over him from head to toe. “Damn, you’re looking good for a guy who’s held together by metal pins and stitches. It’s good to see you. Shit, man, I thought you were a goner for sure. How the hell is Angie?”
    Color drained from the guy’s face but his smile remained. Trick … this guy’s name was Trick Williams? He had to be in the industry, or had been. That would explain the Armani suit, the confidence; it even explained the shit-kicker boots. Stitches and pins? How did Daddy know this guy? He was way too young to be one of his cronies.
    “Angie is good. She’s helping me run the foundation. I’ll tell her you asked about her.”
    “Tell her? Forget that.” Daddy waved his hand and shook his head. “I’ll see her tomorrow. Heard she’s coming to the big Pawtown event.”
    Trick nodded. Daddy sat in the chair between us. Pawtown ? I took in a long deep breath. So this guy, Trick, was involved with the charity Choo wanted me to be a spokesperson for? Great. Choo had probably sent him to Left Coast’s Gala to try and convince me. I leaned toward Mr. Gazillionaire across the table. He still wasn’t paying any attention to me, but he seemed pretty locked onto Daddy. 
    “Doll, did you know you’re sitting beside a living legend? Trick is the only man to get the EGOT before he was twenty-four.”
    An Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar and a Tony all before he was twenty-four? That